


Undone

by freakofnature



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, I'm sorry?, Kenma is drunk, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, dub-con, i mean no one is dead or like srsly injured, ive been informed that the ending is not happy?, tho its still all onesided kuroken so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakofnature/pseuds/freakofnature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you, and I hate it. I just want to be your best friend. I didn’t ask for these feelings, I hate them.”<br/>“Kenma...”<br/>“Why can’t I just hate you too?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

> i'M SORRY.  
> this got away from me so quickly i didnt mean to. 
> 
> thank u to lovely [Nicole](http://www.queen-eevee.tumblr.com) for sending me this prompt, i hope its what you expected bby!
> 
> if you want to get ahold of me, hit me up @ my [tumblr](http://www.jwritesangst.tumblr.com)

Kenma hates it here, he wants to cry. Why does he let Kuroo drag him to these things? Weekend after weekend he comes to them, as if he would get used to them.

And yet, every time Kenma finds himself curled in the corner, wishing _again_ that he hadn’t come in the first place. Wishing that Kuroo would realize how much he hates being here, and would take him home.

And every weekend Kuroo ignores him in favor of making out with some random person while drunk.

Dimly Kenma thinks that maybe he comes to see Kuroo drunk. Watching him make out with people Kenma knew Kuroo didn’t know. Wishes it was _him_ that Kuroo was sucking hickeys into their neck.

(wishing Kuroo loved him back)

Maybe it was a form of torture. A punishment for falling in love with his best friend.

Kenma is pretty sure that if Kuroo was straight then he wouldn’t have a problem. That would be okay. Girls were soft and gentle and _pretty_. But Kuroo wasn’t straight. He messed around with guys twice as much as he did with girls and it hurt so much _more_ to know that.

He just wasn’t Kuroo’s type.

Ha. Though he’s not sure who would have such low standards that Kenma could be _anyone’s_ type.

Someone trips over Kenma’s feet, snapping him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t miss the glare the person throws at him, but Kenma couldn’t have cared about anything at that point.

He just wants to go _home_.

Curl up next to Kuroo, watch movies. Do homework. Sleep.

 _He’s going to cry_.

Without thinking, Kenma finds his nails digging into his arm, equal parts grounding him to the present and distracting him from the overwhelming _being_ that this party surrounded him with.

“You okay?”

Gold eyes flick up to meet bright copper. Kuroo leers down at him, fingers clutching a red solo cup. Kenma can smell the alcohol on Kuroo’s breath, can smell the sickly sweet scent of the drink in his cup.

He wants to go home.

“Can we go home?” he asks, not for the first time that night.

But Kuroo ignores him (again) and offers Kenma his cup, “You’re not drunk enough.” He states. Kenma knows his friend is drunk, but the fact that Kuroo is offering him _alcohol_ makes him wish for a new best friend.

He should have hung out with Shouyou instead of hurting himself like this.

“I’m good.” he looks away from Kuroo’s _all-knowing_ gaze.

Could he disappear?

“Drink it.” Kuroo commands sharply, and Kenma’s eyes snap back up to stare at his friend.

A retort is on the tip of his tongue, but Kuroo is just _staring_ at him and its unnerving and he just wants to die.

Kenma ends up drinking the mostly full cup and coughs as the burn of alcohol slides down his throat, “Gross.” Is all he says, refusing to meet his best friend’s gaze.

“You want water?” Kenma shakes his head. At that Kuroo straightens up and shrugs before turning on his heel and disappearing into the mass of people.

Kenma is once again left alone.

After a few minutes the room starts to spin.

Just how strong _was_ Kuroo’s drink?

* * *

 

Kenma wakes up to a pounding head and his body hurting _everywhere_. A small whimper escapes his lips as he tries to move, but upon realizing he was getting nowhere, he lets himself collapse back against the bed.

At least he had managed to find himself in Kuroo’s bed, though he’s not sure _how_ he got there.

In fact…he’s not sure what happened last night.

Panic rises up in Kenma’s stomach, along with something else as he struggles to free himself from the sheets and make it to the toilet before he empties out his stomach.

He hates himself.

Dry heaves sound in the bathroom as Kenma cries into the toilet, shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

He can’t remember anything.

He remembers chugging Kuroo’s drink, and the room spinning afterwards.

As Kenma stands, he feels a dull soreness in his back, and he starts to cry all over again.

Flushing the toilet he staggers back to Kuroo’s bed, carefully crawling back onto the mattress and seeking out his best friend.

“Kuroo,” he moans softly, tears still streaking his face, “Kuroo _help_.” He’s pawing at the comforter, hoping that he can wake up his best friend.

Instead of replying, Kenma just sees Kuroo’s arm shoot out and grab at him, pulling closer, “Shhhh,” Kenma hears from the mess of blankets, “’S too early.”

On any other day, Kenma would have laughed at his friend’s pain. Would have run his fingers through Kuroo’s hair and called him dumb. Made him coffee so the raven could attempt to drag himself out of bed. Would have curled up on the couch with a hungover Kuroo and binged watched all the movies they could find online instead of doing their coursework.

But today was not _any other day_. Something had happened to him last night, and Kenma was freaking the fuck out.

No, he was not going to give into Kuroo’s warm embrace and sleepy words.

“Kuroo,” he tries again, shoving at his friend. Or the blankets that currently houses his friend, “Kuroo what happened last night, I need to know. I. Kuroo. _Kuroo_.” Kenma slumps back down into the bed and pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears from spilling over, “I’m _scared_ ,” he finishes off in a whisper.

There was a sound from the blankets, but Kenma doesn’t notice as Kuroo emerges from his cocoon of warmth and therefore flinches when warm fingers brush against his cheek, “Kenma,”

Kenma opens his mouth to apologize—Kuroo knows how much he hates crying—but a hiccupped sob escapes.

Fingers wrap around his wrists, pulling away each of Kenma’s hands from his eyes, “It’s okay,” Kuroo speaks softly and now that Kenma can see his best friend, he wants to just curl up against Kuroo’s chest and never have to move again.

“It’s okay,” Kuroo says again and bends down to press kisses along Kenma’s tear-stained cheeks, “You’re okay, I’m so _sorry_.”

Sorry? Why would Kuroo be sorry? Kuroo hadn’t done anything, had he? All Kenma can remember was drinking his friend’s drink before it went black.

Drinking Kuroo’s drink.

And then _nothing_.

Fear squeezes at Kenma’s heart before it starts pumping in overdrive. The pain in his lower back. Was that Kuroo’s fault too? Did Kuroo?

No.

No, Kuroo wouldn’t have done that.

Right?

Kuroo _couldn’t_ have raped him.

Kuroo was his best friend. Best friends don’t. They don’t _do_ that.

“Was it you?” he asks between quieter sobs, an odd calm slowly filling him, “Kuroo was it _you_?”

Silence settles around the room before Kuroo sits up and looks him in the eyes, pain etched into every feature on his face, “I didn’t mean to,” Kuroo starts. Kenma feels the first of a new wave of tears spill onto his cheeks.

_No._

“It just…he was _doing_ things do you, and you were so clearly drunk. And I had to man handle you away from that…that…” Kuroo’s lips pull into a sneer, “Mother _fucker_ ,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

Wait. Wait…something was off. Something didn’t add up. If it wasn’t Kuroo, if it wasn’t Kuroo who did this to him…who caused him to be sore and dizzy and sick?

Did he do this to _himself_?

Kenma sniffs and wipes at his eyes, before he reaches up and smushes Kuroo’s face between his palms, staring at him, “What are you talking about?” he tries so hard to sound calm, but he can feel the fear settling hn his bones.

Something had happened.

“What happened to me?”  Kenma tries again. Still, Kuroo says nothing, looking away with a guilty glint in his eyes, “Kuroo it’s _not_ your fault. I need to know. I need…” Kenma’s breath comes quicker to him and he squeezes Kuroo’s face hard, body shaking, “I need to _know_.”

“You don’t want to.” Kuroo’s voice is soft in the silence Kenma’s words had left, and those copper eyes lock with Kenma’s golden gaze, “I promise, Kenma. You don’t want to know.”

Still shaking, Kenma trusts in his friend’s words, accepting the fact that there would be some things he was better off not knowing.

* * *

 

Three weeks later, Kenma jolts awake with an anguished scream, his heart pounding and body tense.

“Kenma!” Kuroo stumbles into his room, in nothing but his boxers, and stares at him, “Kenma, what the _fuck_?”

For a moment Kenma says nothing, not sure why he had woken up screaming.

And then all at once it hits him.

* * *

 

_Kenma paws at the sheets under him, gasping for air around the fingers pressing down on his tongue, “Take it you slut,” a rough voice commands from above him. Kenma has half a mind to bite at the intruder’s fingers, but he can’t find the strength to do so._

_Pain explodes in his backside and Kenma screams, hearing it echo back ot him in the small room._

_“Shut up, shut up,” the voice chants as the pain slowly intensifies, “Fuck you’re so tight, so fucking **tight**.”_

* * *

 

“Oh god,” Kenma whimpers, curling in on himself, “Kuroo…I remember it. I remember it all. How…” he can’t bring himself to finish, but he doesn’t have to as Kuroo just wordlessly climbs into bed with him, pulling Kenma against his chest.

* * *

 

_Kenma has his arms covering his eyes, legs resting on broad shoulders as the stranger thrusts repeatedly into him._

_“Please…” Kenma begs hips back to meet the stranger’s rapid pace._

_“You like it?” fingers slide up his erect cock, and Kenma hears himself let out a high whine, hips jumping up at the sensation._

_“Yes,” he confesses, “Yes, yes, yes,” he repeats it like a mantra, letting cry after broken cry fall from his lips as the stranger picks up his tempo, slamming into Kenma’s prostate in rapid succession._

* * *

 

“I love you,” Kuroo breaks their shared silence, “Kenma, you know I wouldn’t do anything do anything to hurt you—” he cuts himself off to pull Kenma closer to him, an action Kenma gladly accepts for once, muffling his soft sobs against Kuroo’s chest.

“I wanted it to be _you_ ,” Kenma confesses, “Not some _stranger_ , not…I didn’t _want_ this, Kuroo.” He’s trying not to claw at his arms, to use the pain to forget the memories that had returned to him.

Kuroo had been right. There were things he was better off not knowing. He wishes these memories had never come back to him.

* * *

 

 _“Kenma, what are you doing?” Kenma whimpers around the cock that currently fills his mouth, tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. He locks eyes with Kuroo and an overwhelming need to go_ hug _his best friend overcomes him. He tries to pull away from the stranger in front of him, but fingers tangle in his hair and shove him roughly back down. Kenma chokes as the tip of the stranger’s dick rubs against the back of his throat, but he isn’t let up to breathe._

_“Get your own whore to fuck,” He hears the other male say as he shallowly thrusts into Kenma’s mouth, “We’re busy here.”_

_“That’s my best friend, who the fuck do you think you are!?” Kenma has never heard Kuroo that pissed, and he’s confused as to why it’s happening now, “Kenma get away from him, you’re clearly not sober right now.”_

_Silly Kuroo, of course he wasn’t sober._

_Besides this person was helping Kenma forget. How in love he was with his best friend._

* * *

 

“I know you did, I’m sorry.” Fingers run through Kenma’s hair as a kiss is pressed to his temple, “I’m sorry I didn’t look after you better. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

This time, Kenma didn’t tell Kuroo not to blame himself.

* * *

 

_“Why the fuck did you sleep with him? Were you even using a condom?” Kuroo is yelling at him, fingers running through his messy black hair. Kenma wants to rock up and do it too, but he’s pinned in place by the anger in Kuroo’s eyes._

_He just wanted to forget._

_“I was tired…” he mumbles, fiddling with the hem of his shirt._

_“Of what? Being at the party? You should have asked me to take you home instead of disappearing for_ hours _and letting me find you with some guy’s cock in your mouth! What the fuck, Kenma?”_

_Anger boils in Kenma’s veins, but he says nothing. As if Kuroo knew how much Kenma loved him. How much it hurt to have to see Kuroo suck face with stranger after stranger._

_As if Kuroo ever took him home when he asked._

_It was all Kuroo’s fault this happened anyways._

_“I was tired,” Kenma says again, and Kuroo moves to grab at Kenma’s arm, but he flinches back, shooting Kuroo a dark glare, “I’m tired of this, Kuroo!”_

_“Wha—”_

_“I’m tired of watching you make out with strangers at parties. I…I want that. I wanted that. To be me. And then you gave me that drink and. And everything was hazy and blurry and it felt **nice** to not feel like clawing out of my own skin!” Kenma huffed, wiping tears from his eyes. _

_“You shouldn’t have slept with him.” is all Kuroo says._

_It makes Kenma snap._

_“How dare you get on your high and mighty fucking horse and look down on me!” he shouts, pushing Kuroo back with a hard shove, “How **dare**_ _you tell me that having anonymous sex is bad. You do it every fucking weekend. Every time you get drunk your sucking face with some asshole who’s name you don’t even know!”_

_“That’s different!” Kuroo steps forward, but for once Kenma doesn’t feel the need to back down, “I don’t let them shove their dick down my throat.”_

_Silence settles around the room and Kenma is tempted to just go to bed and slam the door. He doesn’t want to talk to Kuroo right now._

_He hates Kuroo._

_“He **didn’t** ,” Kenma flinches as Kuroo grabs at his shoulders, shaking him. _

_It makes him want to throw up._

_“He did not fuck you. Kenma. Kenma fucking answer me!”_

_“I was trying to forget about you,” is what Kenma says in reply, peeling Kuroo’s fingers from his shoulders._

_“I don’t unders—”_

_“I love you,” Kenma shouts, squeezing his eyes closed and curling his fingers into fists, “I love you, and I hate it. I just want to be your best friend. I didn’t ask for these feelings, I hate them.”_

_“Kenma...”_

_“Why can’t I just hate you too?”_

* * *

 

“Why can’t I hate you,” Kenma mumbles into Kuroo’s bare chest, nails digging into his best friend’s flesh, “Why do I hurt myself like this?”

Kuroo says nothing and Kenma huffs out a small laugh, tilting his head up to stare at his best friend, “I love you,” he says to Kuroo, watching as emotions flicker across the other’s face, but he still says nothing.

Warm hands rub at his upper back and Kuroo tilts his head down as Kenma shifts up, cradling Kuroo’s face in his palms as he presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” tears are welling up at the corners of Kenma’s eyes again but this time they don’t fall. A small smile plays at his lips but Kenma just presses his lips against Kuroo’s once more, sighing as his friend slips his tongue inside Kenma’s mouth.

Kuroo tastes faintly of mint, but Kenma thought he tastes more like _home_. From years of being friends with Kuroo—sharing just about everything—it made it less disgusting to have an unfamiliar taste in his mouth.

“Kenma,” Kuroo breathes between their lips, fingers playing with the waistband of his pajamas.

“Don’t,” the blond whispers, pecking at Kuroo’s lips for a moment, enjoying the weight of _Kuroo’s_ lips being pressed against his, “You don’t love me, I know.”

Kuroo says nothing.

“Just,” Kenma shifts so that he can straddle Kuroo’s lap, tucking his head into his best friend’s shoulder, “Let me have this moment.”

“I thought—”

“I’ll hate you in the morning,” Kenma finds himself saying out loud and feels a sort of pleasure in feeling how Kuroo’s body tenses at those words, “But let me have this.”

“Okay,” Kuroo gives in—as if Kenma was going to let him just walk away at this point—and wraps his arms around Kenma’s back, hugging him close, “I love you too,” he says after a brief silence, “Not like you do, but I care for you.”

Kenma finds himself smiling into the crook of Kuroo’s shoulder, “I know.”  


End file.
